


Lost Minds Lead To Broken Bodies

by HannahkinSkywalker



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Because I'm a bitch, Bloody hell these are a lot of tags, Brain Damage, Gen, Just beating the shit out of Loki for my amusement, Memory Loss, Mentions of PTSD, Partial Whump, Pre!Dark World, Pre!IM3, Sorry guys, When I say Sif/Loki I mean eventual and not even that much so sorry for that, post!Avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahkinSkywalker/pseuds/HannahkinSkywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki appears out of nowhere, ending up in Stark Tower, no one receives the fight they are expecting. With no memory of the past seven years, the god of mischief is another person, and Thor finds himself hoping desperately for a second chance between them. He simply wants his brother back, while Loki simply wants his memories. Of course, the memory loss is only the beginning of their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my darlings! Thanks for taking a look, basically I've had this bunny for a while, and it's all planned but I'm slow to update so apologies for that. This is just me playing out the fact that I like torturing characters. Sorry about that, anyway, on with the show!

_Monster._

_Monster._

I’m a monster, a bedtime horror story, nothing more than just some monster.

_Monster._

We were told as children, there were horrors beyond our imagination.

The war with the Jotuns had near destroyed Asgard. And all this time I’ve been one of them?

_Monster._

_Monster._

Kept locked up, just another souvenir to Odin’s perilous ventures. A trophy of his victory, he had the sheer audacity to call me son?

_Monster._

_Monster._

I remember. I remember when we first learnt of Jotunheim we were told never to go there. It’s dangerous. The Jotuns are dangerous.

“When I’m king, I’ll hunt down the monsters and slay them all.”

_Monsters._

_Slay them all._

I’m a monster.

_Slay them all._

But it’s their fault.

_Slay them all._

They made me. It’s in my blood.

_Slay them all._

_Slay them all._

 

**..**

 

Laufey first heard of the boy’s excursion to Jotunheim two hours ago, and in that time he had roused the troops, executed a search party, brought the intruder before court, the punishment was to be set. Yet these hours seemed to drag on, as this boy was thought to have been long gone. Of course, he had visited Laufey before, but this time there was a new ferocity in the boy’s eyes. Blind hatred led his actions, they were not carefully thought out, compared to the many times the boy had visited previously. They had expected a wild creature to hunt down, but Laufey had still needed to hire Skurge to find where the boy had hidden himself, there was still some logic hiding, it seemed. Not enough, although, to gather his wits and silver tongue. The boy had been quiet while he was set before the King, and when addressed he had remained silent. Laufey did not expect the boy to talk once he was brought back, when the Executioners arrived.

“Sire, they are here.”

Laufey jumped from his thoughts, brought back to the cold, dank world that was Jotunheim, the wind blowing across from the two Frost Giants over to their King. Every now and then he would catch their scent, and that of their cargo. Loki Odinson was bound and held tight, nearly aloft, between these two nameless Giants. The Asgardian looked out of place among the Frost Giant court, with his soft, pale skin, and the meagre size of him. Loki looked at the King with utter contempt, and disgust. Laufey still had no idea why the boy had come, but come he had, and now there was a punishment to be organised.

“Loki Odinson,” Laufey began, “this is your last chance; explain your actions and we will lower your penalty. If you choose not, be aware that we will take disciplinary action with the utmost severity. Do you understand?”

Still silence.

“Very well,” Laufey smirked, “we shall have to find a suitable execution.” As he began to recite Jotunheim’s official laws on the death penalty, one guard seized the boy by the back of the neck, forcing him to face the Jotun King. Silence fell through the court. It began at the Jotun’s fingers. A soft blue began to stain Loki’s skin; he shivered, and flinched away from the Jotun guard’s touch. The blue tinge became darker, and spread across and around his lower neck, softly, slowly filling his face, coating it dark enough to blend into the night sky. The so-called Asgardian shuddered his way through this transformation, still remaining silent, his head bend forward, eyes screwed up tight. When he opened them, they flashed a hot red. Loki’s breathing became jagged, seeming exhausted from the power he used attempting to prevent this. No one dared to speak first, and everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to start the explanation.

The first thing Laufey noticed was the markings across the god’s face. They were familiar, part of a long distant memory, one that he had dared to forget. Loki chuckled under his breath, and then finally looked up to the Jotun King. “Remember me?” many Jotuns seemed stunned, waiting for their King’s reaction, hoping to understand what was happening before them.

“Of course,” Laufey dragged out his words, “I was wondering where you had ran off to.”

Loki stretched his face into a smirk, much like Laufey’s, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead his ivy green eyes burned with disgust for the creature before him, as did Laufey’s. Hushed whispers started to run through the court now, the rare few who remembered the bastard child, dwarfed, deformed and left to die in the cold. Best to get this over and done with quickly. “Loki,” Laufey then paused, “I suppose you’re not Odinson, and you’re certainly not Laufeyson.” He spat the last phrase out, as if it was hot on his tongue. “You are sentenced to exile. You will be taken to one of the Nine Realms at random and will spend the remainder of your days there.”

The young Jotun gave a soft snort, somewhat surprised by such a meek punishment, as he was dragged to his feet by the guards. One of them shoved Loki’s head down, as to avoid direct eye contact with their precious King, and they started to take the prisoner away, until Laufey stopped them. “The terms have not yet been discussed.” He said, appearing completely calm, but just below the surface Laufey was bubbling with excitement at the prospect of using this new penance. His eyes met with Loki’s, who had managed to break his head out of the guard’s brace. The look they shared was more akin to two chess players, as opposed to dealer and recipient. The younger Jotun’s head was tilted ever so slightly in curiosity, as if to say; 'your move.'

Laufey gestured to a nearby servant, and whispered in his ear. The servant’s face contorted to a look of horror, before he quickly shrugged it off and moved over to the left. On a small pedestal lay a tiny box, no bigger than the Frost Giant’s hand, it was made of wood, and seemed incredibly fragile. On closer inspection it was revealed to be incredibly heavy in the servant’s hand, with a lead lining. Loki craned his neck to see what was happening, from his perspective, the box appeared empty, when in actual fact it was filled to the brim with thick, black ink. The servant trudged his way through the ice to meet the Jotun’s prisoner.

“Hold him down.” Laufey barked, leaning forward, wanting to get a good view of the approaching event.

The guards did as they were told, and pushed Loki down to his knees. Once he was kneeling they pushed his head to the side, exposing his right cheek and ear. The Frost Giant servant plunged his hand into the gooey ink, and drew out a black, pulsating mess. Beneath the ink and the pus, lay a small, witchetty looking creature. It was deep navy in colour, with bright red spots running down its body. Throughout this, Loki had tensed himself, readying for whatever was to come, but panic flooded through him anyway, making his blood run cold. The front end of the creature, he guessed, opened itself. Thousands of tiny jaws were exposed as the multiple sections of its mouth drew away, then each one of the creature’s needles pinched Loki’s face. Loki could feel multiple piercings running across his face, and a flooding of small pellets into his eyes, mouth, nose and ears, the sting each mark left burning white hot into his skin. It seemed to melt into his flesh, the singeing pain penetrating through his skull, causing him to cry out. He wanted to claw the creature away, but the restraint from the other Frost Giants was too much for him. He'd always been the weaker creature, even hidden as Aesir. It was not long before the pain became too much and he blacked out.

**..**

“Come on, Odinson, hit me harder.”

Thor and Natasha had been sparring for half an hour straight now, and after the same amount of time with Tony, Bruce and Steve each in a row, Thor believed he had the right to say he was knackered now, and deserved to sit down. But of course, he did not, because he knew the whipping Natasha would give him if he gave up now.

The collected members of the Initiative had moved to their own parts of the world once Loki was taken away, but in recent weeks, they were spending more and more time in Stark Tower. It seemed to have become their own little haven, where the building was full of people who completely and perfectly understood their position. “Well, surely you do not want to have any bruises for your date tonight? I’m being considerate, can you not realise that?” Thor grinned, narrowly escaped Natasha’s lunge, and edged around her, the two of them now becoming feline in their movements.

“It’s not a date,” Natasha corrected him, dancing around her opponent, “Clint’s back in town tonight, and I’m taking him out to look around. The city’s changed so much in the past few months.” It wasn’t as if there was any choice in that matter, after the Chitauri had near destroyed New York. Thor thought through this conversation he was having, perhaps he could distract Natasha long enough to-

An agonising scream filled the room, no, the building.

Steve launched himself into the room. “Thor!” he called “Get here now!” Both Natasha and Thor left the newly minted sparring room and rushed down the corridor. Around the corner they found him. Loki was sprawled across the floor, blinded with pain, screaming in torment. Thor stopped, staring at the sight of someone he had not seen in months, frozen in his place. Steve seemed torn for a moment, looking to Thor, then Loki, and Thor again. He gave a nod to Natasha before taking off down the corridor, in search of Bruce, hoping he would be able to help. Natasha knew that she’d been left with Thor, and decided to act. The Asgardian was still rooted to the spot, barely daring to breathe. She took hold of his elbow, gently, and gave a soft push towards the younger brother. Thor jumped at her touch, suddenly remembering himself. He edged slowly towards Loki, apprehensive of the reaction his brother may have to him, having known of the punishment Loki was put through on Asgard after the last time he was here.

Thor only let out a puff of the breath he was holding as he noticed Loki steer away from the pain and, panting, becoming aware of his surroundings. The Jotun looked cold; and exhausted, he was sweating and shivering and frightened and Thor still did not approach his brother. He could still remember what happened last time. He muttered soft words of encouragement from afar, in Asgardian, not caring for Natasha’s expression of confusion. Even from here Thor could see a change in Loki, as he fought away the pain. He was mostly the same. The same face, now twisted with anger and hatred. The same body, and contorted by years of battle. But his eyes. Loki’s eyes were not as Thor had seen them for years. They were young, innocent, and frightened, until the bright green met Thor’s soft blue. Recognition flooded Loki’s face. “Thor?” He whispered, struggling for breath. The younger God’s hands grabbed weakly at the air, reaching for Thor, his eyes pleading as if wondering why his brother was there, and not with him. His eyes became dull as they flickered away. Thor was left alone in silence, wondering how his brother could have possibly gotten here in such a state.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor had to admit it; he had no idea what to do.

When his brother appeared of nowhere, in pain and confused, he had panicked. Natasha had taken the lead, slowly, gently, pulling Thor away from the room, so Bruce – when had he gotten here? Thor hadn’t noticed – would have enough room to examine the younger God. In his mind, Thor knew he needed to stay with Loki; to make sure he was all right and keep him safe from whatever was happening but his body would not let him move. It felt as though nothing was getting to his nerve endings, that they had cut themselves off from the rest of him. Thor had seen many in pain after battle, had seen his brother in pain more often than he’d have liked to, but there was something different.

Natasha led Thor away, and took him to sit down. They were just around the corner from where he knew now Steve, Bruce and Tony were working on Loki, trying to move – and most likely contain – him without causing further injury. Thor wanted so much to help them, but he felt so numb. Natasha was talking to him, her words as soothing as she could attempt to make them, but he could not hear her properly.

The garble spreading from Natasha’s mouth slowly but surely began to make sense. Odin and Frigga would need to know about this, search parties would need to be called off. His friends on Asgard – he hoped – would breathe a sigh of relief knowing where Loki was.

Or at least, where his body was.

Thor knew something had changed, in the past few years the younger brother had grown into his field of expertise, mischief turned to chaos, the prince turned into a God. Now? It seemed as though he had recessed. The same broken body remained yet the childlike innocence had wormed its way back into Loki’s eyes. Or at least, he made it seem that way to Thor. Loki had seemed so genuinely frightened, with no idea where he was or who he was with. Yet he attached himself to Thor the minute he could comprehend what was happening. Loki had not wished to be near Thor for more time than Thor could bear to remember. All the anger, the hatred, and the resentment that had built up inside Loki for all those years had seemingly vanished.

Natasha finally allowed Thor to stand, knowing that the Asgardian would no longer find his brother round the corner. When she rested a calm hand on Thor’s shaking body he shrugged it off and then instantly regretted it. It wasn’t her fault Loki was in such a state, but whoever had put him in that position, Thor would find them, he would- he would...

He really didn’t know what he would do.

Steve was in the same place Thor had left him, surprisingly calm given the sudden appearance of a God. He looked over to Thor and nodded, the Asgardian reciprocated. Natasha observed the two for a moment, and knew she was no longer needed, she gave a reassuring tap on Thor’s arm, steeled her expression and then left, knowing Clint would be waiting for her at the airport, and would need to know what was going on. Thor knew there was no chance of him seeing Loki for hours so he did not ask. Steve gestured to the sparring room, the door still open, weapons abandoned on the floor. Thor looked down the corridor and then back to Steve, sending over a questioning look. The old soldier understood Thor’s position, they both needed an outlet, something to distract them instead of waiting endlessly. They moved noiselessly into the sparring room together, hopefully both of the ancient men could work away the new-found adrenaline from distant memories coursing through their veins.

**..**

Bruce and Tony had taken Loki down a few floors, and found a make-shift room/cell for him. They had hooked the God up to as many medical machines as they could find, fervently trying to find out what was wrong. At least, Bruce was working hard. Tony had sat himself down on the counter, munching on some cherries. He looked rather at peace, watching Bruce scurry about the unmoving body. Bruce stopped, glaring at his friend when he realised what was going on.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, I’m not doing anything.”

Another glare. “Exactly, also, you have the face.”

Tony had to hold back a smirk at this. “What about my face?” Bruce stopped adjusting the settings on the heart monitor to get a good look at Tony. “It’s the face you pull when you’ve decided that you know how to fix everything. But what makes it so annoying is that you never actually tell anyone until the last moment.”  With that, Bruce went back to his work. Tony bounced down from his seat and flicked a cherry in Bruce’s direction. “Well, for once you’re wrong.” He said; pulling down results from the multiple blood tests they had already performed on the God. “I have no idea how to fix this, but none of us do; only Thor could possibly have any clue. Look at his molecular structure, we have no idea what we’re dealing with, and we can’t even use Thor’s blood as reference, because from the looks of it they’re not even the same species.”

“Tony, we were told Loki was adopted.”

“Was he? I think I’d tuned out at that bit.”

“Clearly.”

Tony ignored the subtle quip and continued. “We have no hope in working out how to fix Loki without consulting Thor, and do you want to go ask him at the moment? Because I don’t.” Silence cut through the room, in their rush, both of the men had forgotten just how affected Thor would have been by this. Bruce looked from Tony, to Loki, then to Tony again. “He seems stable.” He stated; double checking Loki’s vitals for the fifth time in ten minutes. “He can hold out until Thor can tell us what we need to know.”  

While both men decided this they did not see.

They did not see Loki’s face contort in pain.

They did not see a slither of movement squirm its way out of Loki’s ear.

They did not see the creature drop to the floor, now just an empty bag of flesh, and extinguish itself.

And of course, they did not see what was going on inside Loki’s head.

**..**

"So he just turned up?"

"Yep,"

"Out of the blue?"

"Out of thin air."

Clint pushed open the door to Stark Tower; having driven across the entirety of New York, he and Natasha had decided it would be better to walk to get the Shawarma. Tony had insisted on eating it tonight, and no one in the city delivered. Much to Natasha's dismay, Clint had happily volunteered himself to fetch the revolting 'meal.' And of course, feeling guilty, Natasha thought it was best to accompany him.

Not the best outing they'd had.

But it was certainly not a date. They didn't date; it was impractical and far too risky in their line of work. Clint and Natasha just happened to spend a lot of time together, that's all.  

The two of them were rushed through the held open door, relieved to be out of the cold. Natasha no longer needed to hold the greasy bag to her chest for warmth, and Clint’s fingers were starting to become less blue. As he rubbed his hands together and shivered, Clint received a quizzical look from Natasha.”What?” He said, shuddering again, thus earning another frown. “Budapest isn’t even hot this time of year.” She stated as she climbed into the lift that appeared before her. It was strange how travelling through Stark Tower was now becoming clockwork to so many of them.

“No, it’s just at this time of year New York is stupidly cold.” They were in the lift now, slowly climbing further and further up. An aggravating buzz sounded each time a new floor was reached, Tony’s idea of fun, no doubt. To Clint’s exhausted mind it sounded like a fog horn, blasting in his ears every moment he found some sort of peace. Apparently SHIELD has the influence to build a humongous ship that flies through the air with every sort of gadget imaginable, but a rescheduled and then diverted flight is too much for them to handle. It was only seven in the afternoon and Clint was ready to collapse on his bed.

When he voiced this to Natasha she snorted. There’s no way you’ll ever get to your nest, with all the crap on the floor. Clint grumbled, “It’s not my fault the room’s messy, there’s never any time to clean.” Natasha exited the lift, followed by a now shuffling Clint. Without looking back she tossed the remark “Oh really. Have you seen Steve’s room? He left the door open once, and... Wow.” She put the Shawarma down, and waited for the scent to attract flies or everyone else in the tower, whichever came first. The only one to emerge was Bruce. The three of them sat in the quiet, until Steve appeared in the doorway, and skulked across to the table, picking up a plate and cutlery on the way. As usual, Steve was the one to break the silence.

“So where’s Tony?”

No one asked about Thor. They did not expect him to appear.

Bruce finished his mouthful before replying, “Downstairs with Loki, we’re taking shifts on watching him. We have no idea what’s actually happening to him now, so we’re hoping we can see what’s going on ourselves, rather than through scanners that mean nothing.” None of them spoke again after that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this one's a tad short, in fairness, they're all a tad short, but I'm trying to release only as much as I write in a day. That way I can at least stay a little bit ahead. Enjoy my dears!

There had been no change for five hours now.

Tony had finished his shift, passed Loki onto Bruce and then gone off to bed, leaving the doctor alone with his thoughts and an apparently comatose alien. Even though there were no signs of consciousness – or even _life_ – coming from the God, Bruce still felt the need to remain as quiet as he possibly could, so not to disturb the Asgardian, or Jotun, or whatever he was. He weaved his way around the multiple wires piercing Loki’s flesh to thump the heart monitor; this was the third time it had fuzzed, before turning back to normal almost instantly. However now, it was beginning to get on Bruce’s nerves. With the machine back to normal, and Loki’s vitals checked and rechecked, there was nothing for Bruce to do. It was getting late, and he was tired, but he knew he had to keep watch, just for another few hours. Then the sun would come up and he could maybe get some rest.

Bruce dropped into his chair, just away from Loki’s bedside, and grabbed his book from a nearby table. He only got through one chapter before he felt his head begin to droop. As an afterthought, he put the bookmark back into his copy of _The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde_ , which he’d found with a little note reading _‘Enjoy! Thought you could do with a few pointers! xx’_ Bruce, since then, has assumed it was Tony, but the note was from a computer and Tony had not mentioned anything about the novel. Bruce had to admit, unfunny as the joke was, the story was quite a satisfying read.

So satisfying, he almost didn’t notice the movement.

A miniscule movement, but there all the same. A soft twitch came from Loki’s left hand. It quivered in the air, and then fell to where it was resting. Bruce blinked in surprise, carefully, quietly getting out of his seat. He made his way to the bed to find another pained expression on Loki’s face. The heart rate monitor was going insane now, erratically bleeping, then stopping, then starting up again. As Bruce floundered, his mind was going at a thousand miles an hour, trying to work out how to fix this. Loki’s back arched, his eyes staring wide, and crying out in pain. Bruce could feel the power ebbing out of him, the lights in the room and the next one along went out, along with all the monitors, in a flash of sparks. Bruce backed away desperately thinking of what to do.

**..**

Loki could remember that it hurt. It had hurt so much, but now he was numb, senses dulled. Flashes of red clouded the already thick veil coating him, choking him. He tried to reach across to wherever he was supposed to go, but his limbs would not obey. He cried out frantically, helplessly. Images played across his mind, many strangers surrounding his unmoving body. Thor stood by watching, why was he not helping? Had he done something to upset his brother? He could see the two of them running now, racing across the Bifrost, the palace, old countries in Midgard as children. The images flickered, twisted sickeningly around the corners of his mind. He could feel the world rotating beneath him at a ridiculous speed, or at least, it felt that way. Flashes of ancient memory wormed through his mind’s eye, his friends, well, Thor’s friends, Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, all men together laughing, while Loki remained silent in the corner, content to just observe. Mother and Father at dances, his brother pulling him up to join in the merriment. Their faces curved around him, again, the nauseating twists and turns, like a metal heating, expanding right through him, burning, singeing each part of him.

But the images were distorted now, crisp at the edges, melting in the flames that licked at his face. And his head, oh his head. Throughout the minutes, hours, days, he was no longer sure; he could feel the dull throbbing in his whole body ever growing with each pulsation. He could feel the flesh inside himself torn out bit by bit, leaving only ragged remains. He felt bones breaking, being pulled from their sockets only to be replaced haphazardly. _Try and heal yourself from that, Bastard child. Son of Laufey, son of Odin, do you even belong? Not so mighty and powerful now. A lowly high born, prince of two realms and nowhere at once. Pathetic._

Was he moving? He felt that way, as each bone creaked, the cartilage grinding together, sending jolts of pain into him, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness all over again. What sweet relief that would be.

Patches of the veil were leaving him; he could see small tears in the thick stench of it. He could poke the holes bigger if he really tried. The pain was falling further away now, he could feel himself edging closer to the surface, just a little further and-

Light flooded Loki’s vision, as his body jerked into life. He thought he could hear a far off creature crying out, a pained, anguished screech of sheer animalistic pain. What sort of monster would make that sound? Surely not him? With all graces gone, he rolled away from the wires and tubes closing in on him, collapsing to the floor, crouching. He felt the sharp sting as each metal tooth was pulled from him as he moved; no longer connected to whatever concoction they were filling him with next. Within seconds there was a male human before him, muttering gibberish at Loki. His soft tones did nothing to calm the Prince, as he attempted to stand. He found that was too difficult, so he settled for a wobbly hunch. The man was nearing him, still offering soothing tones but Loki was having none of it. At some point he’d been changed out of his battle armour, or any type of armour. Loki realised he was wearing what was most likely to be Midgard cloth. He felt naked and vulnerable.

Then he remembered.

Thor was here, it can’t have been a dream, especially as the approaching man’s face became more and more familiar. He’d seen him before, meaning Thor was here. Was he being held captive too? He had to find his brother, and make sure he was all right; he just needed to get past the stranger.

Not without some answers, of course.

“Who are you?” The man looked baffled, taking a step back. Loki seized his chance, throwing all his remaining strength at the stranger, who, with a cry, was pushed back against the table. He made a well placed punch to the solar plexus, holding his thumb just above the stranger’s sternum, his thumb resting in the soft, fleshy part of his throat, the burning mixture of fear and fury in his eyes as he towered over the human. “Where’s my brother?” He asked, then repeating his first question. Loki could now feel the power coursing into his palms, and it was obvious the stranger could see it too. “What have you done with Thor?” Still the man spoke no sense, Loki couldn’t understand any sound coming from him, causing more frustration. Loki had just about saved enough energy to finish this one off, before finding his brother in whatever horror this was.

There were new voices now, still all male, shouting across the room in the same tongue as the first. Loki cried out as one of the men grabbed at his torso, a pair of strong arms pulling him back, forcing him to release the original stranger. There were three of them, all shouting to each other as Loki struggled against the biggest one. For the first time, through these few seconds, Loki realised just how frightened he was. Was Thor in this situation too? He so wanted to see his brother. He cried out Thor’s name, hoping someone merciful would hear. Loki knew Thor wasn’t coming, he always did, but he could remember Thor’s face from the dream, or perhaps apparition, he knew something was very wrong. As a sharp pain twisted through his right arm, followed by another, and then another. Loki felt the last remnants of his strength leave him. As he fell to the floor the stranger still kept hold of him, and he thought clearly enough to finally realise the strange tongues. Midgard. English. Maybe just one word could save him.

“Please.”

**..**

Steve didn’t quite know what to do, he’d never had an unconscious alien in his arms before, and so it was all rather new to him. Tony stood over the two men, with multiple syringes in hand. Seemed it took far more than the normal dosage for an Æsir, or Frost Giant, or whatever Loki was. He and Bruce shared a concerned glance. The three friends stood in stunned silence for a moment. Both Steve and Tony seemed to simultaneously realise just how much Bruce was shaking, with his fists balled up. Tony took charge, reading from Bruce’s face just exactly how much pressure he was under. “Hey, Banner. Kind of need to breathe,” the familiar, cynical tone slowly pulling Bruce back into the room. Steve had already moved to put Loki’s limp form back on to the bed, probably not as gently as he should have done, but he figured, considering their history, it was justified.

“He was asking for me.”

They all jumped as Thor’s shadowy figure came into view. It was obvious that the older Asgardian had gotten no rest either. His haggard eyes flicked from his brother to the others, then to Loki again. Thor stumbled over to the chair Bruce had taken earlier and flopped down into it, his eyes now never leaving Loki. “Something is wrong.” He said, his eyes narrowing at the idea, “He has never acted like that, never with that look on his face. Not for years now...” Thor trailed off, his eyes misting over for only a moment, before returning to the room, and realising he was the subject of three concerned faces. He looked to each of his friends individually, noting each gave a different – silent – word of encouragement.

He moved his chair closer to Loki’s bedside, and muttered softly, “I will stay with him tonight. And Bruce, I’m sorry I did not come sooner,” Bruce gave a simple smile in reply, before the Asgardian carried on, “there were – arrangement’s to be made.”

“Would you like some company?” Steve asked, his mellow, docile tones blanketing all those in the room. No matter how little his words were, coming from Steve they just seemed to work.

Thor smiled in Steve’s direction, still holding his concentration on his brother. “I’ll be fine; do not worry for me, Steve.” The other men in the room shared a glance, each deciding in their own mind what was best, and luckily finding an agreement. They left the room one by one, Steve placing a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Bruce a small nod, and Tony leaving a rude but well natured comment that Thor would not remember by the morning.

The two men of Asgard were finally alone.

“I never thought any less of you, brother.”

Thor was well aware that no one could hear him speak, but perhaps, somehow he could bring his brother back to him. “Truthfully, I still wish for you to give up on this ambition, and make amends with Father.” He steadied his breathing for a moment, and watched the younger man. Still silence. Thor adjusted the blanket on Loki, wrapping him up warm. “I know you always hated the cold, I never understood it in more recent years, considering...” He stopped himself; he did not need to speak of Loki’s heritage, not now at least. “If you were to renounce the deeds you had done, I’m sure Father would understand-” again Thor cut himself off, his words, no matter how heartfelt, never seemed to truly work. Loki had always been the Silver Tongue; he could weave magic into his speech. Realising this made Thor feel even more lonesome as the night progressed into dawn.

**..**

Thor had not slept at all in those hours.

Daylight had just begun to creep through the smallest of cracks around the window sill, and Thor could hear the loud, undignified squawk of a pigeon or a crow or whatever else lived in this Realm. Even high up in the tallest parts of the building Thor could hear the creatures of the morning coming out to play. The work force traffic, the road works, those clever – or insane – enough to walk straight across the city. It seemed strange how the world was still continuing as all this was going on. With the Bifrost blown apart it was near impossible for either Odin or Frigga to travel to Midgard, not that either of them wanted to, Thor felt. Once Loki had escaped, Frigga had searched endlessly for any sign of who she felt was still her son. Odin had scarcely spoken to Thor, and when the youngest of the family was mentioned he fell into an eerie silence, in turn silencing whoever had mentioned him.

Small hints of sound started to make themselves heard downstairs, or perhaps a few floors, as tired as Thor was it was difficult to tell. He tried to concentrate on this, working out who was moving about, and what they were doing. Loki had always been better at this, Thor thought bitterly as he moved to stand, in an attempt to stretch his legs. His mind was so elsewhere he almost didn’t notice his brother twitch.

Loki’s head cocked, ever so slightly, to one side. He began to stir, but something was instantly wrong. Thor moved over to the younger brother as Loki’s face twisted in pain and fear, Thor attempted to hold him down as Loki became slowly more violent in his actions, murmuring unrecognisable words. Thor muttered to Loki in their language, softly calling to wherever he was now, until Loki screamed.

Thor took his hands away as Loki burst into consciousness, only intervening when his brother rolled over, almost falling off the bed as a result. Thor slowly put his hands back onto a now sweating, panting set of shoulders, watching Loki intently. He did not wish to ruin any progress that could possibly be made, so he was as gentle as he could afford to be. Loki stared at his older brother, seeming shocked. The two men stood in silence for a moment, each brother drinking in the sight of each other in the state they knew them to be. Loki lifted a shaking hand to Thor’s shoulder, fingering the fabric of his T shirt between his fingers, as if testing to see if he’s real.

Thor may have told Loki he was really there, and not some addled apparition but he could not remember. He almost backed away as Loki buried his head into his older brother’s chest, either wetting his shirt with tears or sweat. Thor reprimanded himself for thinking so lowly of his brother, to go as far as flinching from his movements. He did not know what to do as Loki attempted to steady his staggered breathing; Thor simply put his arms around his younger brother, hoping for an explanation of the sudden change of heart later.

“It hurt, Thor.”

“I know. You are safe now.”

“I could see things.”

“They were not real, brother.”

“I want to go home.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I've been away for a while guys! Exams made everything go a bit insane and life in general's just been mad (I wrote a couple one shots to keep you happy..?) so I've finally got back to writing some more, enjoy chapter four!
> 
> Again sorry for the delay, hopefully I can get back into the swing of things..

Steve was the first to hear the scream.

It wasn’t like he had slept much that night anyway, it had been a rough night, and worrying about Thor had not helped at all. He had loitered in the floor above the two Asgardians, all night, just in case. In the small hours Bruce and Tony had seen him staying up, and had checked whether he was okay. Of course, Steve and just nodded, smiled and waved away any comments. He had sat in silence for three hours, until he had started to nod off.

Then the dreams began. Vibrant images of Loki, melting into a pool of dark mess, snow blinding Steve as he tried to make his way to the next victim. He could hear screaming, crying out, boys wanting to go home. Rapid artillery fire scattered across and over their heads. The cries of anguish and pain growing all around him, men looking to him, asking for help. Steve was frozen in place as he watched the image of Loki twist and turn into a young boy, freckled, fair haired. His armour had done him no good, and the blood was pumping out too fast. Steve was suffocating under the sounds, the noise blinding him in pain. The screams of his friends stabbed at his senses, he could feel the cold German air becoming all encompassing, closing in on him more and more until he could not breathe and he burst awake, the tapping of artillery fire playing through his head, his eyes hot with tears. 

Needless to say after that he did not sleep at all.

Once he had heard Loki’s cry from below Steve jerked from his chair, coming back to his senses, still figuring out what was going on until he heard a clatter downstairs. He threw himself down the stairs, two at a time, and nearly leapt into the room to help before he saw the brothers through the window. They had just stopped, staring, in utter silence. Steve felt awkward, as if he had invaded a private affair. As quietly as he could, he slowly backed away from the thick doors.

At least Steve was quiet until he crashed into Clint the moment he turned away.

The pair tumbled over into a crumpled heap on the floor with a crash. The bowl of fruit Clint had been carrying was now scattered across the floor. Steve glared at Clint, watching as he clumsily fumbled around the floor, reaching for each fruit. Clint gave an equally seething glare before crawling over to where the apples fell. Steve started to scoop up the grapes which had kindly decided to scatter and roll as far as four feet away. As quietly as they could, so as not to disturb the brothers, they set to work. Each time one man stumbled and made a noise, the other scowled until they carried on, as quietly as they could.

“The hell are you doing, Barton?”

“Fruit always helps, they’ll need to eat something – I’m being considerate you know.”

“Well couldn’t you have at least picked a quieter fruit?”

A low chuckle reverberated around the room. Clint and Steve looked away from their growing piles of fruit to see Thor’s figure towering over them. He had a smile painted on his face, but everyone could see it did not quite reach his eyes. No one pointed this out as Thor slowly bent to join the two of them in their endeavour to find every little seed. None of the men had any idea of what to say, so they resumed their activity in silence. Once they had finished, Steve gave Clint the bowl, who stood there, looking at it awkwardly. A smile spread across Thor’s suddenly ashen face, “Have you suddenly embraced the ritual of five-a-day, or do you merely plan to throw this fruit at the floor all day, Clint?” he said, marching through his fatigue.

The two men chuckled, only slightly relieved that the Asgardian had regained a little of himself since the previous night. “Well, considering you Asgardians don’t have five-a-day, I thought I’d bring this little surprise along to educate the two of you.” Clint shrugged, gesturing slightly with the bowl. “But, now...” he trailed off, picking a small tuft of hair away from a slightly squashed strawberry.

Steve watched the two men try to find the right words as he searched for his own. He wished to apologise for the pain his brother was in, and the secondary pain it had grasped on Thor, he wanted to point out perhaps this was some form of Asgardian punishment, considering Loki’s crimes. Steve found himself bamboozled at this new feeling, he always knew exactly what to say and how to say it. That was the point of him; it had been for years before the war. Steve the linguist, Steve the interpreter of hearts, where others could not confess what they truly meant Steve was on hand to translate the garble of his friends. He was not used to being at a loss for words.

**..**

Thor had watched as two of his only friends in this realm had hurriedly skittered across the floor, dashing after a melon here and a grape there. Now stood here in the silence, he had no idea what to say to either of them. Thor understood that this was a sign of good will, and that they were not prying, and were not acting maliciously. Yet Thor had no reaction to this that was not negative. He just wished to be left alone; his younger brother was still in the room, with no clue as to where they were. Thor settled on a soft chuckle, the rumble in his chest was surely a sign that he was fine, and that there was no need for Clint or Steve to hover. It wasn’t that he wished to be rid of them as such, he just needed some room to fix this problem with Loki first, before fixing everything else.

Before Thor could attempt to earn some privacy a loud clatter reverberated through the corridor. Followed by the others, Thor sped into the room behind him. Loki had somehow managed to stand, albeit haphazardly, leaning heavily on the bed next to him. As Thor rushed over to help his brother, he realised Loki had also armed himself with a hypodermic needle, apparently discarded after the drug inside being deemed somewhat useless on an Asgardian. Thor thought nothing of it as he pulled up the younger man to full height; he only fully noticed the makeshift weapon once Loki consciously moved it away from him, something he would not have done, at least not in recent years. “We have to go, Thor.” Loki breathed, it was apparent that it still wasn’t clear in his head that they were on Midgard, as the tongue he used was their own. Thor gave a reassuring nod to the two humans in the room, who obviously had no clue as to what Loki was saying.

Thor did not really notice as Steve put a firm, but still comforting hand on Clint’s shoulder, leading him out of the room, knowing Thor had full control and was fine for now.

Loki shrugged off Thor’s help, and stumbled across the room, almost falling towards the end, using the metal cabinet as his only safety net. Loki had his full weight on it as his hands fumbled across it, searching its contents for anything useful. Thor would see he was still slightly out of sorts from whatever drug Bruce had given him for the pain, but he was following the rules. The three rules Odin had set them for whenever the two sons found themselves in trouble: Find a weapon, find each other, find home. Either it was just as heavily ingrained on Loki’s memory as it was Thor’s, or he hadn’t entirely blocked every positive idea linked with their father. “Loki...” Thor started, his tone soft, he hoped there was still enough of his brother in there to listen. Loki turned to face his brother, wide eyed with adrenaline, yet his senses seemed dulled. He staggered back towards Thor, “Where are we, Thor?” He asked, desperately, Thor still had no idea how to react to this. His brother had not given word to him without seething contempt for years. “Midgard, but we’re staying, so you may as well rest.” He said this with a slightly firmer tone than he’d anticipated, almost wincing at the harshness. The glare which appeared on Loki, much more like his usual self, gave a defiant air. Thor knew he had to get the other man to calm down, if not for five minutes, he tried a different tactic.

“What happened, to make you so determined to leave, and where would you even go?”

Loki stopped his frantic searching. Yet again Thor could see the change, those eyes were so different to the ones he had come to recognise. The flecks of sadness were gone, now only fear lay in its wake. “That does not matter now,” Loki resumed busying himself, trying to find anything useful. Thor ‘s heart juddered in his chest as Loki plainly stated; “we will go home, of course.”

Without realising, Thor marched over to the younger brother, and turned him around, slightly rougher than intended. He had to check this was the same man, the same brother he had fought alongside, and then against over the many years. Loki barely kept himself upright as he was turned on the spot, swaying, he caught his balance. The younger brother seemed just as confused as Thor was, his eyes almost inquiring as to whether Thor was feeling well himself. Thor could not see why, but he felt the need to explain the obvious. “We can’t go home brother. You know that.” He watched as a small flash of realisation spread across the younger Asgardian’s face, the confusion, the horror, then Thor watched as the Silver Tongue quickly covered it up again. Loki almost laughed, “Why not?” The sympathy for his little brother was fading fast now, Thor decided. Loki could not play ignorant and avoid consequence. “You know why, do not try to play games with me.” He warned, his frustration mounting as Loki’s face still revealed no connections between the last few years and his banishment from Asgard. Surely he could feel the band curling around him? Loki simply shook his head, throwing Thor into a state of limbo. He did not want to feel sympathy for his brother playing coy, but there was something very nearly genuine in the younger, smaller Asgardian’s eyes again. Thor still could not place it. As Thor turned away to move the random medical equipment that Loki had previously thrown around off the bed, Loki almost whispered “I don’t understand, what’s happening Thor?”

Thor somehow managed to keep his voice steady, this was frightening him just as much as it was Loki. “You know. Stop it, and sit down, before you fall.” After Loki made no movement in the silence he whirled around to face the younger brother “You were banished, Loki. Long ago! Whatever fun you are trying to have I want no part in it!” he snapped, instantly regretting it as Loki visibly flinched at the outburst. No recognition made itself noticed in his face. This was one of the rare times Thor knew Loki was not lying. He watched as the slightly unsteady Asgardian leaned against the cabinet again for support, exhaustion suddenly weighing on him. “Why?”

Thor had no reply. This conversation was getting harder and harder to keep up, everything about Loki’s body language was telling him he was truthful, yet Thor knew he had been fooled before, and couldn’t quite believe this new innocence. “I don’t understand,” Loki stammered, “if I’ve done something wrong I meant no harm. Can’t we just go home, and talk with Father. Maybe he can-”

“Sit down, Loki.” Thor snapped. Loki silently attempted to obey, before realising walking straight was far more complicated than necessary. Thor gripped his arm as he placed the smaller God on the bed. The word _father_ had particularly stung Thor, for Loki had not used that title for many a year now. Thor sat himself next to his confused brother, who now looked to him for some sort of explanation. Now Thor could exactly place the change in Loki, his eyes belonged to those who had not seen the fights, the horrors and the heartache that had plagued Loki since that night in the Vaults below Asgard. Thor took in a breath, finding a way to figure this out. He would have taken longer if his younger brother were not panicking quietly at his side. “Loki,” he started, turning to face the Asgardian fully, “before... before whatever happened to you to bring you here-” Loki’s mouth curled upward for a moment, seemingly grateful that Thor had decided to leave that be at the present time, “-what is the last clear memory you have? What was the last thing that makes sense to you?”

Loki looked away, concentrating, extracting the memory fully was proving harder than he’d imagined. Eventually he managed to recall it. “We saw Hugin and Munin flying over the walls of Asgard, we had nothing to do that day so we followed them, but not before telling Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral and Sif-” His voice softened at the last name, Thor decided not to question it, “-about it. We all managed to convince the people down in the market to skip instead of walk, and sing instead of talk whenever the ravens were nearby. Hugin and Munin were so confused by the musical outbursts that they swooped home and told Father, and when he questioned it himself everybody acted as if nothing had happened. It went on for six hours before he discovered that the ravens weren’t losing their minds after all.” He chuckled, as Thor joined in, enjoying the memory.

Silence followed as a thought processed through each man’s mind. “It wasn’t that bad, was it? Would Father banish me for that? It was only some fun.” Worry now filled his voice, as Thor’s voice thickened with his own worry. “No, Father didn’t banish you for that. You were put in your room for a week, and Father had the bed removed,” Thor tried to hold back a chuckle as he saw Loki’s reaction from the corner of his eye, “It’s just- are you sure that is the last clear memory you possess?” Thor asked, praying for the right answer. “Yes,” Loki breathed; his face filling with fear. “That was quite a while ago, Loki.”

“How long ago?”

“Seven years.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this took a while to update, I actually have a fair bit more written up and saved, but I was planning on letting out slowly so I could stay ahead with writing, I might just update all I have over the next few days, and try to finish it up soon, but I can't make any promises. Sorry guys! Thanks for patience if you're still with it, either way, enjoy the chapter!

Odin Allfather watched from the highest point of Asgard. From here he could view most of the capital clearly, from the market all the way to the broken remnants of the Bifrost, without disruption. The king of Asgard had not been up here for many years, not only because Asgard had been peaceful since the war with Jotunheim, but he no longer had the need to escape the noise of young children, or any children at all, more recently. All was quiet, and safe, and Odin had no reason to worry.  
  
Apart from the distinct lack of Heimdall at his post.  
  
Granted, there was almost no reason for Heimdall to guard over the Bifrost now, but he had never left his post, not once. Odin gazed over the rest of the City, hoping to find the guard on the outskirts somewhere, perhaps fearing the worst. Suddenly Hugin and Munin burst into view, in quick succession. Odin nodded to them, gesturing them into the tower, away from the cold balcony. The two carrion birds perched on each of his shoulders, resting their wings after a demanding flight. Munin was the first to speak. _“Allfather, Heimdall is not at his post.”_ Odin resisted the urge to scoot him off his shoulder, normally the ravens were the cleverest birds he knew, but every now and then, he remembered birds were only for sight, while Odin remained the mind behind it. The only reason he did not convey his exasperation was Hugin’s statement:

_“He’s coming here, Sire.”_

Just at that moment, the Sentry of the Bifrost thundered up the stairs, with all the haste he could muster. Odin looked to the ravens that flitted away, leaving the two Asgardians in peace. “I take it you have news, Heimdall?” The King was not even sure if he wished to hear it, but Heimdall began anyway. “Yes, my lord. You are aware that Loki was found by Thor on Midgard, correct?” Odin nodded. “I have been watching over them, as you requested, and it seems there has been a slight problem.” Heimdall spoke slower and slower as he reached the end of this sentence, as if finding a way to word it delicately. “It appears Loki has no memory of his actions. He wishes to come home, and see you.”

Odin felt his heart drop into his stomach. He knew that once his younger son was found there would be trouble, yet this was far worse than he’d ever imagined.

“Are you sure, Heimdall?”

“Quite, my lord.”

“And my son is truthful?”

Heimdall nodded. Odin made a move to go down the stairs, allowing the Sentry to go first, but propriety forced Odin to climb down the stairs before him. The two Asgardians knew full well that no matter how hard they tried, Loki would not be able to come home. Odin’s two sons knew this also, but Odin had a feeling they would not listen to reason. Loki – unlike his older brother – had committed a much crueller crime, and was truly banished. After the events on Midgard, and Thor had joined together with the humans, Loki had been sentenced to a life of exile, and had been placed under the band. Even without memory, Loki must have known when he looked at the stitching around his spine that there was no way he could go home, not without ending his own life. They reached the bottom of the winding staircase in silence, until Odin spoke these thoughts to his Sentry. “I suppose that the only solution is to travel to Midgard, and find him.”

The two men shared a glance, knowing that – with the Bifrost destroyed – there was only one way out of Asgard, it was bloody and brutal, and Odin knew he had to at least try.

As if by Divine Intervention, Odin’s ravens were exactly where they were needed, perched at the base of the tower, awaiting instructions. Odin gave them word to send to Frigga, and made his way to the Bifrost.

The King and the Sentry remained in silence for the trip, each man calculating the best way to go about this. Here they were; the edge of what was left of the Bifrost. Odin could almost hear Thor’s screams as Loki was cast down to the swirling abyss before him. There were so many regrets from that day, and the father had thought that perhaps there was some chance of reconciliation once he managed to find Midgard, and then his sons. The two men stepped tentatively right to the edge of the bridge, teetering over the top. Odin nodded to Heimdall, who in turn moved to his post. He plunged his sword through the bridge, summoning all the power he could. This new way of travelling was still in testing, but Odin knew that he needed to try. Heimdall gathered the power he had been holding, and threw it across the Bifrost, straight at the King. Odin felt the electricity surge through him. The blinding light flashed across the whole bridge silencing all those who were nearby.

Then the pain began. The energy began to penetrate Odin’s body, tiring him, weakening and tearing through him. It felt as though his own skull was being pulled apart piece by piece, and he was only strong enough to stand there, holding the flesh of himself together. The King of Asgard felt the exact moment when his heart stopped.

Heimdall, in panic, threw his sword aside, halting any chance of actually sending Odin anywhere. He rushed to his King as the older man bent over in exhaustion. Both men knew now there was nothing to be done. Odin could not risk his life for this, not when there was no heir in the realm. Naturally, Thor would have been in waiting to take over in case anything happened, but Odin knew his eldest. He knew that Loki would not be left alone on the realm, not while Thor was still breathing. When Odin regained his breath he turned to the Sentry. “There is no way, is there?” He asked, before hurriedly changing the subject, “I will not go to him. I trust Thor will be able to watch over him.” As he turned away, to face the capital he added an afterthought, “Send the message that Loki’s exile is to be carried out on Midgard, he is permitted to be nowhere else.”

Hopefully his youngest son would be safe.

**..**

Loki had only just come to realise how much he hated silence. Thor was attempting to contact Asgard, begging their father to permit the two of them to go home. Loki knew that once the Allfather had made a decision, however, there was no going back. It had been that way for years, even for his own son, Loki doubted Odin would change his mind.

_Perhaps if Thor were in my position? Then, Father would change his mind._

Loki visibly flinched at the unexpected thought. He fought to keep its undeniable logic away, as he began to shakily move around the room. He peered out the window, seeing the busy streets of Midgard, the humans bustling between each other beneath him. It was a strange sight; everything was so much brighter, so much faster in comparison to the last time he’d been here. It seemed unnaturally cold, despite the blinding sun on the other side of his window. Loki had come to notice that recently, he was constantly feeling colder and colder, or, to put it correctly, the recent years before he had lost nearly a decade of his life. He knew he had done something to cause this, something that was most likely blown far out of proportion and something where he’d never meant to harm anyone. Surely someone could see that he was sorry for whatever he’d done? Even Thor edged around him, keeping a thick guard up, not allowing Loki anywhere near him. Maybe it was just the years that had affected his older brother, but Loki suspected more was going on.

His next thought was the first one to make perfect sense. Who was the one Æsir that had never lied to him, not even a small white lie? He sat down in the chair next to the bed, closing his eyes for a moment. His soft, green tendrils reached out from his mind across the cosmos. They moved slowly, unsurely, as if he hadn’t done this for years. Perhaps he hadn’t, yet he could remember teaching the method clear as day.

_“All right, now close your eyes, relax,” He murmured into the Goddess of War’s ear. She scowled at him, still obeying. “What’s this for? I swear Loki, if you’re going to cut my hair again-” Loki chuckled, interrupting her. “You’re still sore about that? I’m sorry, Sif, we were children. And you had a lovely wig while it grew back.” She grumbled again, something inaudible about his punishment if he went anywhere near her. “This isn’t helping you relax, my dear. Focus on your breathing.” He sat down beside her, doing the same. He took Sif’s hand, gently, unsurprised by her lack of a flinch at his touch. She was the only one who didn’t mind the cold, and he knew she wouldn’t stay irritated with him for long. “Now, imagine your conscious thoughts, they’re like sentient beings themselves, yes? They have colours and meanings, personalities and interpretations. What were to happen if they started to leave your mind, and move across the room?” He questioned, smiling as he heard Sif shift slightly. “What? You tell me.” Yet she did not move her hand away. “Imagine them moving across right now, they would travel to the nearest conscious being.” Loki allowed his own thoughts to move through the space between them, with their own little message. “If you keep your mind open, Sif, you can hear my thoughts, and I yours.” He sent the small tentacle of a sentence to Sif. She opened her eyes, smirking. It was obvious she’d heard him. He chuckled at her joy, glad she’d understood him. “So no matter how far apart we are, even on different realms, you can send out your message to me. I will hear you.” He promised, watching her face for her reaction. “And I you,” Sif smiled, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be listening.”_

“Sif?” He called out, hoping she had kept to her word. He could feel the soft tug from her silver thoughts. She seemed angry, then upset, then confused all at once. As his soft green light ebbed towards hers she recoiled, causing Loki to move back himself. He tried once more. “Sif?” He felt her move towards him in the darkness, ever so slightly, her anger had returned. _“What do you want?”_ She replied, her voice curt, sharp in Loki’s ears. He drew back, feeling slightly hurt by her unjustly harsh tone. “What do you mean? Sif, please, you have to help me. I- I don’t understand...” He trailed off before she cut over him. _“What do I mean? I mean, Loki that you shouldn’t try to contact me. I don’t want to speak to you. Leave me alone.”_ There was something in her voice that didn’t quite fit, and Loki could feel the lie seeping through her thoughts. “Sif, there’s nowhere else to turn. No one will explain anything. What’s happened in the past seven years? Please.” He felt almost desperate now, no one would give him any answers, and now it seemed even his Sif was turning on him. He felt her stop for a moment; she flinched back for a second before masking whatever had come to her mind. Who had taught her that? Loki was certain he hadn’t, or at least he wasn’t aware of having done it.

Sif was silent for a moment, as if thinking through her options. _“Besides the obvious, you mean? Nothing.”_ Loki frowned, Sif really wasn’t helping him at all, and perhaps he should just come out with it. “I don’t know what’s happened, Sif, apparently I can’t remember the last seven years, and now I’m banished and Thor’s nervous around me and it seems that even you are angry at me.” He paused, considering what he could have done. “Have we had a fight?” He tried, hoping it was as simple as that. _“Not exactly.”_ She replied, sounding strangely hurt. She went quiet for a moment, while Loki tried to push further. “Not exactly? What did I do to you? You know I would never harm you purposefully, yes? You know I love-”

He felt Sif bite a growl from her lips from all the way in Midgard. Loki stopped and remained quiet as she cut over him. _“Don’t even say it! Stop it; you can’t just claim to have no recollection of what you did to us and hope a few words will cure everything! Things don’t work that way anymore.”_ She paused before stating the last sentence. Loki felt her pull back, as if she almost regretted snapping at him. He felt his own subconscious pull back momentarily. There was nothing about this he understood, to be honest, Loki found himself frightened. He knew this was getting nowhere. “Can I see you?” He tried, reaching out for Sif again, pulling her closer before she faded away. There was no reply for a moment, and Loki feared Sif would simply break off the connection without a word. She gave a curt _“You can’t.”_ before breaking off, leaving Loki cold in the darkness.

As the room came fading back to him everything seemed clearer now than it had before he’d spoken with Sif. He was swaying slightly in his seat, feeling whatever he’d been given wear off. Loki was glad for the clear head, until the pain came. Every movement caused heat to sear across his body, especially his lower back. He felt his movements become constricted. His lower back, especially. His face fell in realisation. With great effort, the God pushed himself out of his chair, knowing his erratic movements from earlier, even though he could not feel the pain then, had aggravated whatever injury he’d sustained. He slowly made his way across the room, noticing a looking glass hung on the wall. It took a minute or two, but Loki managed to get himself in front of it. He took a few breaths before he realised it was not him in the glass. It couldn’t be Loki, the Trickster, Prince of Mischief. Surely this was an entirely new creature, born out of torture and pain. Loki also remembered that the Midgardians had dressed him in their own clothes, rather than the armour he had arrived in. He could see every single scar that laced itself across this foreign body, every bruise, purpled and mottled across his skin. The only thing more frightening than his now broken body was Loki’s face. It was harrowed, pale, with a soft sheen of sweat from the effort this morning – was it even morning? There was no concept of time in bright rooms such as this – had taken. He winced as he turned to face his back to the looking glass. He had been told of his banishment, why hadn’t he thought to check until now? Loki lifted the shirt, which was only slightly sticking to his skin, to reveal thick stitches of a familiar fabric sewn through his flesh. Presumably, it curled all around his spine before revealing itself on the other side of his back. This continued all the way up Loki’s back, and he help back a gasp of horror as he almost felt the weaving tighten around his spinal cord. The God wobbled for a moment, deciding perhaps this had been enough effort for one day, and he made his way back to the small, high bed. He nearly collapsed into the mattress as he curled up, not caring that the stitching seemed to threaten to tear away his flesh from the position. His breathing staggered, as he wished only for Thor to come and give him the full story, for his parents to come and help him. He wished for Sif to see that he meant her no harm, and that he needed to fix whatever wrong he had done.

The fabric in his skin loosened slightly to fit with his body, but Loki knew he would never go home. He was trapped here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being so patient! Enjoy the chapter! x

Thor had sent word to his father; hopefully Hugin and Munin wouldn’t make a mistake on their way. The God moved silently through the empty corridors, for once glad for the solitude. Surely Father would see that Loki was in no position to ever rebel again, and that damned band could be untangled from his small body – Thor had always worried that Loki was too thin, this just seemed to make matters worse. Maybe the two of them could go home. That was all Thor wanted. He slipped into the room Loki had been put in. The younger Asgardian was curled up on the bed, seemingly asleep, while the older Asgardian took a seat again, regulating his breathing. Since Loki had come round, Thor noticed, someone had cleverly snuck in and taken away anything that could be used as a weapon. There was now a small camera hidden in the corner of the room, and the only piece of medical equipment was now a drip feed, which had been disconnected, most likely by Loki himself.

Thor didn’t recall how long he sat there in the silence, but at some point Loki came to his senses. The Trickster shivered, his hands curled into fists around his face. “What’s happened to us, Thor?” He said in such a way it was impossible to tell if it were a question or a simple statement. Loki sat up, curling again slightly as the ropes along his back reminded him of their existence. He looked to his older brother, expecting an answer. They sat in silence for a moment; Thor didn’t know how to put it. How do you explain to your younger brother that he went insane and tried to kill you along with half the human race in the past years he can’t remember? “Even Sif will not talk to me.” Loki was right to assume that by the time he and the warrior had been together for nearly ten years Thor would know about it. Of course, half the court knew but no one ever said anything, they were too worried of what might happen if it were to come out – many saw it as a scandal, just a prince having his way with a girl. Thor knew better, he knew how Loki felt; perhaps he understood the lengths of Loki’s feelings better than the Jotun himself at this point.

Out with it. That was the only solution the Asgardian saw. Telling Loki everything could jog his brother’s memory after all, so Thor came and sat on the bed next to him. He pulled one knee up, so he could face Loki fully. He took a breath. “Would you like to know what you did or the reason first?” Both would be equally distressing. Loki was silent for a moment, thinking it through. “The reason, please.” He looked to Thor, watching him; his eyes seemed an even more brilliant green than usual. Thor silently got up, asking for a moment to go get something. He rushed through the corridor, finding where whoever had moved everything dangerous in the room had placed the possible weapons. He grabbed the sceptre which Loki had arrived with and moved swiftly back to the room, placing himself in the same position. Loki chuckled, despite his fear. “I thought you were just going to wander off,” He admitted, making room for his older brother. Thor gave a quick smile, which fell away as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m not that cruel, brother.” He stated, raising his brow. He took a breath.

“You remember when Father fought the Jotuns? He- he found something outside the temple.” Loki nodded, interrupting him. “The Tesseract, yes. Mother hated having it as a trophy; she was with child and didn’t want to risk a Jotun counter attack. I know this Thor.” The younger God stated, urging him to get to the point. “That’s only a half-truth. Father found something else, a Jotun infant, newborn, left to die in the cold. You know Father, even if it was... Laufey’s own son abandoned, he couldn’t leave the child to freeze.” Loki’s face fell, as realisation picked its way into his face, before he masked the emotion quickly, Thor could see at least that hadn’t changed. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. “Where is the child now?” Loki murmured, already fearing the answer, hoping he was wrong. Thor watched his brother, and cautiously moved the sceptre towards him. “You see it holds the Tesseract’s power, Jotun technology.” He held it out for Loki to take hold. With an unsteady hand, the younger Asgardian curled his fingers around the base of the sceptre. The moment Loki’s skin made contact with the Tesseract’s power a strange feeling surged through it. The strange, unwelcome feeling of relief washed over Loki, as his own flesh began to change colour. He nearly dropped the sceptre in surprise, but Thor held it up, placing his own hand over Loki’s gently keeping it there, the younger brother had to see this. The deep blue tinge spread up from Loki’s hands, patterns of scars carving into his skin. Again, Loki felt comfortable in his own body for the first time, as if whatever spell had been used to keep him in his Æsir form had constricted him. Loki pushed away this feeling, noticing it was quickly replaced by panic. He shouldn’t be changing and he shouldn’t feel good about it. He felt the last shades of disguise melt away as he now looked at the world through red eyes. He said nothing, only putting his effort into not weeping from the horror of it in front of his brother.

Thor watched quietly as he saw his brother change. There was something about this which the Asgardian found somewhat unnerving. This was his own little brother, after all, and this was the first time he had seen Loki in a form which he did not choose to be. He had seen the Jotun shape shift often, no one could forget when he hid as a mare for a few months, and it had taken years for Thor to stop teasing Loki about it. This was something completely different, however. The eyes were the last part of Loki to change; he saw the deep crimson flow through each eye simultaneously. Both men sat in silence for a moment, either waiting for the other to speak or not knowing what to say. Thor decided to try first. “Odin couldn’t just leave you, so he brought you to Asgard, where we were raised together. You know the rest up until a few years ago. Later on, three years ago, I had been banished, and you were on your own when you found out about this. You were- you were upset, enraged, confused, among other things.” Thor paused, checking his brother was still processing all this. “You believed that even when I was no longer on Asgard and Father was in the Odinsleep you were not welcome on the throne. I think that had something to do with it. You went missing for a while, we found you on Midgard, in this city, even. You’ve already met some of my allies here.” Thor shrugged, “Well, you’ve seen them at least. You somehow decided that if you were not welcome to the throne on Asgard, you would rule here. For most of the time you cannot recall, before all this, you were anxious to prove yourself to Father. You felt there was favouritism in the house of Odin.” Loki arched an eyebrow, saying nothing. “We fought, you were brought back to Asgard, and you know the punishment you were dealt.” Thor gestured to Loki’s back, knowing the band must still be sore. “We heard nothing of you since, until now.”

Thor, having said his piece, fell back into silence. Neither man looked at each other as Thor allowed Loki to work through the past few years in his mind, fitting everything together. As the elder gave the younger a quick glance, he noticed his face had changed, somewhere between hurt, betrayal and anger played across his face. The Jotun’s hand was shaking on the sceptre. He threw it down, swooping to stand, not caring if the band protested. He paced around the room manically. “You knew this!” Loki cried, looking hurt, but masking it over with a much easier emotion to face. “You knew I was this- this monster and you never told me!” The Jotun didn’t care for what time it was, or whether he was disturbing anyone or not – it was reasonably light outside, if anyone was to be awoken from this it was their own fault for not being up already. “I’m sorry you weren’t told from the beginning, brother.” Thor started, his voice soft, trying to calm the younger God. “Don’t call me that!” He snapped, before realising what he’d said, and how it sounded. He spoke softer now, his voice still jagged. “How could you say that? For years you called me brother, said I was part of this family. You were simply lying to my face each time I saw you!” He gave a short burst of enlightened laughter. “And I thought I was the Silver Tongue, when in actual fact you had kept the biggest secret of all. Why-”

“I didn’t know, Loki!” Thor’s outburst echoed through the room, silencing the Jotun. “Do you think that I’d have been capable of lying to you for hundreds of years? I can barely lie to you for five minutes.” He stated, watching Loki in disbelief as his brother fell back to his Æsir form. Loki’s eyes were clearer now, once the chuck-berry red had faded away. The horror, the sadness, the sense of betrayal was all there, flooding the younger God’s brilliant green eyes. Loki twitched as his flesh returned to its familiar colour, before near collapsing into the chair. What had happened to his balance since he came around? He wasn’t still on whatever medication he’d been given, he was sure of it. Loki felt sick; he didn’t know what to do. He simply curled up in the chair, bringing his knees up, the roots of his palms resting against his eyes, as if trying to squeeze out all he’d seen.

The younger God stayed silent for a moment, as if awaiting further explanation, while the older God remained silent, as if awaiting further questions. The two of them let the thick, choking silence separate them more into their own worlds. A thought clicked in Thor’s mind. This was going exactly where it had gone before; but perhaps this was why Loki had lost his memory? Could he fix this? He slowly stood, attracting the Jotun’s attention. He quietly moved across the room, crouching down at the chair where Loki was making himself appear smaller and smaller. His eyes showed there was no malevolence there, and that every word he spoke was truth, but surely Loki already knew that? “I am truly sorry that you weren’t told earlier. I was made aware of the situation even later than you were, or I would have said something.” He tried, noticing Loki was listening intently now, searching his older brother’s face for some sort of lie – perhaps to make the idea of all this easier. After all, a lot had happened in seven years, both brothers had matured considerably since then, so much had changed, and now the younger had been thrown back into their foolhardy days. It seemed Thor would have to work hard to convince his brother, but perhaps Loki could avoid every poor choice he made in recent years, on both Asgard and Midgard.   

**..**

Bruce had politely but firmly asked Thor to leave the room once he came in to check on Loki. Of course, the older God had protested until Loki gave him a small nod, but said nothing. The whole time Bruce worked through Loki’s different systems the Jotun was silent. He assumed that Loki didn’t trust him yet, which Bruce couldn’t really blame him for, considering the fact that the Jotun was bound in his seat, hands chained together. The moment he’d been deemed somewhat capable of moving, Loki had been tied up, as an extra precaution, regardless of the look of horror on the suddenly younger God, and the retorts from his older brother. Bruce spoke constantly anyway, simply filling the room with something other than a silence; he gave Loki warnings and explained everything he was doing beforehand, so as not to set the God on edge further. He seemed somewhat healthy for now, a little dehydrated, lacking food, but nothing they couldn’t fix in a day or two. No need for a fully trained doctor, Bruce knew what he was doing. Anyway, if they brought anyone else in there would only be more explaining to do about other worlds and that it wasn’t a hoax and so on.

It was a strange notion, stood opposite Loki in silence, checking his body was in working order. The stranger part was the fact that he was letting Bruce do any of this, when he could easily overpower him, even in his exhausted state. Bruce could remember the first day they’d seen each other in person. The God was simply strolling past, surrounded on all sides by guards, yet he’d seemed so confident, especially as he made direct eye contact with Bruce, a smug grin on his face. It had caused an involuntary shudder of... not exactly fear, anticipation, to run through the physicist’s body. As it turns out he’d been correct in his wariness, that Loki did have a plan for him. Yet this new face, this much younger, more nervous looking face – yes, Loki was still incredibly sure of himself, he wasn’t a stuttering rabbit in the headlights, certainly not – holds none of the anger, arrogance or simple blind hatred that Bruce had become acclimated to. He shook his head ever so slightly, remembering back where he came from this man was the Lie Smith, the master of deception, and he shouldn’t be taken in so easily.

“You are the one called Banner, yes?”

Bruce whirled around towards Loki’s voice; this was the first time he’d listened to him speak properly, when it wasn’t in garbled Asgardian or fuelled by malice or pure insanity. Bruce nodded, “I’m Bruce, yes.” He spoke softly, his warm tones gentle to the Jotun’s ears. Loki had been notified of each member of the ‘team’ earlier, and knew who and what everyone was, and what connection he’d had with them. The Hulk had beaten the God to a pulp, and yet Loki showed no fear. Perhaps because he couldn’t remember, or maybe he felt he had the upper hand, or maybe there was an entirely new, unrelated reason. “Thank you, Bruce.” Loki muttered as an almost inaudible sound. Bruce had to double back to make sure he’d heard correctly, before pulling a look of near disbelief. “Well, you’re welcome. I’m not sure what for, but...” He carried on taking the Jotun’s pulse, trying to remember that it was likely not everything would be accurate to human biology. Loki turned his head, studying the scientist carefully. “You’re the first one here who hasn’t seemed to tread on tiptoe in front of me like I’m some sort of monster, and I thank you for that.” He nodded, his face still blank, as if he was still processing the idea himself.

Bruce chuckled under his breath; he understood completely where Loki was coming from. “Well, if I expect fair treatment from others I have to give it first, yeah?” He shrugged, releasing Loki’s wrist as he did so. “They’re still treating me as a war criminal. I know what I’ve done now, but-” Loki cut himself off, as if lost for words.

Bruce’s brow furrowed as he moved away the small medical kit, ensuring the sharp objects had been kept away from the God for most of the time. Loki may have been raised and conditioned in the ways of the Æsir, but apparently a Jotun’s animalistic tendencies were known to come through at the most unexpected of times. “But- what? If you don’t mind me asking.” Bruce stated, his tone soft, but still with the undeniable firmness a doctor required. Loki looked up to make eye contact again, and Bruce could see the twist of emotions working through him. It was almost as if the God of Chaos he’d previously been was trying to break through, trapped inside the mischievous prince. Yet again, Bruce could see the distinct lack of malignant intent behind Loki’s eyes, and certainly didn’t feel any fear. The confusion quickly faded from Loki’s face, as he decided on a thought process that led to believing Bruce was trustworthy. He took a breath. “I’m aware of my crimes, but no one’s told me _why.”_ He blurted, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. Bruce remained quiet for a moment, his expression neutral, but his mind whirring, searching for a suitable response. “I think, no one’s told you because they don’t understand it themselves. I certainly don’t.” Bruce admitted, his eyes scanning over Loki’s face, seeing he had to explain himself further. “You know you were somewhat... inconsolable, when you found out your heritage. From what Thor tells us, you believed you had been wronged by your father – ah, Odin – for a lifetime. You felt you’d been wronged by the whole planet, apparently, still not sure why.” Bruce simply shrugged, not really expecting an answer from the Frost Giant. He put the equipment back into the top cupboard, locking it as he went. Loki wasn’t the only person not entirely trusted in the tower when medicinal issues ensued.

“The Jotuns are monsters.”

Bruce very nearly didn’t hear Loki’s statement, and his head turned to the side as he listened. He was silent for a moment as it fully registered in his mind. His eyes never leaving Loki’s, the scientist sank back into a chair, moving his arms slightly as if inviting the other to continue. Loki seemed to be unsure of what he’d meant by it himself, and took a moment for the reasoning to click into place. “At least, that’s what we were raised to believe, both Thor and myself. We were told of the war between the Asgardians and Frost Giants, the monstrous deeds they committed. The way father – Odin,” He corrected himself, “told the tales, it seemed they were more animal than person. They were creatures to be slain, and our father, leader of the Æsir, was the hunter, the hero of war. We were told of glorious battles, but only from one viewpoint. I had not even reached maturity, and I was unwittingly turned against my own kind. The fact that Odin looked me in the eye every day, and made me hate my entire species. He made me believe they were monsters, and to know I’m just a _trophy,_ a monster myself, stolen by another, and that’s simply a pointlessly cruel act and I just can’t- Why didn’t he just leave me to die!” As Loki trailed on, it became increasingly obvious the God was losing control of what he was saying. Bruce suspected he hadn’t spoken of this to anyone, and even though he couldn’t remember, the emotions, the rejection was still there. Pent up, locked away within him. Loki was cut off as he near growled the last part, putting his head in his hands as the glass in the mirror shattered, along with a large crack running down the window. The bulb burst, plunging the two of them into total darkness.

Bruce jerked from his seat, expecting an attack of some sort. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he came to notice Loki had not moved from his own seat, he simply looked up at what was left of the bulb. It seemed he still had the power that came with his title which he had acquired during his time in hiding, after falling from the Bifrost, but none of the knowledge to wield it. Loki’s brows knitted together as he put two and two together. “Apologies.” He mumbled, holding his palm out. A pathetically small orb of light ebbed from his fingertips. So Loki still had his magic, yet it was suppressed heavily. Loki’s face contorted in pain for a moment, twisting his back into an odd position, which set a frown on Bruce’s face before he remembered Thor’s explanation. The ‘band,’ as it was called, would tighten with each spell Loki cast, as a reminder of his crimes. The Jotun seemed to be bringing some light into the room for Bruce’s benefit more than his own, perhaps as slight apology for shattering the glass. Bruce fell back to his seat again, eyes trained on Loki. “It’s okay, not like you did it on purpose.” He gave a small half smile, trying to offer some comfort. Bruce knew what pent up energy felt like, and felt a slither of empathy appear for the trapped Frost Giant. “If anything, it does sound like you were wronged. That’s not an excuse but...” He shrugged, unsure of what to say next.

Loki didn’t make eye contact again; instead he kept his attention on the light, the pads of his fingers dancing along the edges, as if he were trying to retain some control over it. “No, it is not an excuse. Yet, where is the logic? Surely I should have wanted to take my anger out on Odin and Frigga, not Thor, and certainly not a realm that had no involvement.” He frowned in confusion. “It feels like that’s another life, another course of actions that another me has taken. Surely if it wasn’t truly me, or at least, who I am now, and I have no memory of it, I shouldn’t be treated like a caged animal? Everyone else is wary, but _you,_ you show no fear. Why?”

Loki was the younger of the two brothers to begin with, but here and now Bruce could see what Thor had meant by Loki recessing back. The childlike lack of understanding was obvious. Anyone else would know why Bruce treated Loki differently in comparison to others. It seems the two monsters had something in common, the fact that maybe they weren’t monsters at all.


End file.
